Red Attic
by britfanatic76
Summary: "Her knees hit the floor next to his body. She wanted to cradle his head but was afraid to touch it. Her hands hovered, unsure where to go, where they wouldn't do more harm. She held back a sob and perched there, leaning over him uselessly." Jane is attacked in his attic at CBI and Lisbon deals with the aftermath. Chapters 1 and 2 might be borderline M due to violence. ON HOLD.
1. Attack

Angry, violent kicks. That was all Patrick Jane could process in his jumbled mind. This person was very, very angry.

His cheek burned from where he'd cut it falling on the broken teacup he couldn't remember dropping. He thought about that. That was fine. He didn't think about the other pain; the pain in his ribs, and his stomach, and all over his middle, that made his insides burst and his brain haze.

He never had any option of protecting himself. The attack came from behind, at his complete surprise. This man had to have guts to attack him in CBI headquarters.

The arms he covered his head with did no good. They went limp within a few dozen kicks, leaving his head open. Unconsciousness came too slow, too soft. It wasn't enough to be dead to the world. He wanted to be plain dead.

He came and went a few times before realizing the man was gone. The pain wasn't. He tried to dig his phone out of his pocket, but the pain of moving sent him in and out of consciousness again a few times before he could get to it. He passed out again, came to again. Eventually managed to dial Lisbon before the blackness overtook him. He was out again by the time she answered. He didn't hear it, but she cursed him for getting her out of bed before hearing ragged breathing over the line and falling into panic mode.

She was there the next time he came to, slamming through the door. He felt her fingers on his neck, then his face. She called his name but all he heard was a warbled sound. Something wet fell on his face, but he didn't think about what it might be.

He didn't hear the paramedics ask her how long he'd been unresponsive or mention brain damage, didn't see her break down in the middle of his attic. He didn't know how long it was before they put him on a stretcher, or hear them talk about a punctured lung, but the pain made him scream when they moved him.

When the worst of the pain started to ebb, he sensed her nearby, and felt her pry his hand open and take it. Her hand was warm and sweaty. Somehow it made him feel a little less miserable. He curled his fingers around hers before fading again.

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A/N: Lisbon's POV is next. And don't forget, reviews are motivation. Feed the plot bunnies!


	2. Lisbon

"Oh god."

The blood. There was too much blood. His face, his torso, all splotched a crimson red.

"No! God, no!"

He was still. Oh God, he was too still. _No, no. No no no, no!_

Her knees hit the floor next to his body. She wanted to cradle his head but was afraid to touch it. Her hands hovered, unsure where to go, where they wouldn't do more harm. She held back a sob and perched there, leaning over him was seconds before her brain reminded her how to check a pulse but it felt like long minutes. Her fingers pushed at the buttons on her phone numbly before she found the right ones. The pulse was barely there. _But it was there, right?_

She tried to keep it together. The paramedics got there fast. They asked questions she didn't know how to answer. Questions she didn't want to think about. When they said something about brain damage, she lost it. Broke down right there in his attic. _This isn't happening. God, this can't be happening!_

He was conscious but he wasn't really there. They put him on a stretcher and he screamed, the first hint he was at all aware. She took his hand, pried his fingers open to hold it, and felt him squeeze ever so slightly. Her heart slammed her ribcage.

The paramedics began to load him into the ambulance. She followed, keeping his hand in hers. "Jane? I'm here. You're gonna be okay, Jane."

She hoped to God that wasn't a lie.

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A/N: Forgive the horribly short chapters. I'm afraid they're all going to be this short. Well, maybe not as short as this one, but short. After finals week is over, you may get lucky and get multiple chapters per update.

Remember - reviews are motivation. Feed them and more chapters will magically write themselves!


	3. Hospital

Cho was the first to find her, in the hospital waiting room. There was still blood on her hands and her clothes and the dark glaze over her eyes told him not to ask how she was holding up. The way she fingered the cross around her neck told him what he needed to know about Jane's condition. He took the chair next to hers.

"Boss."

She pulled her arms from around her knees and straightened up. "What do we know?"

"Cameras went out at two, came back a quarter to three. Nothing on the footage we have. SACPD are canvasing the area, nothing so far." He looked at her. "This guy was smart. He wouldn't have attacked at headquarters unless he was sure he could get away with it."

"I don't care how smart this guy is, I want to know who he is and why he did this." Her voice turned cynical. "Not that there's a shortage of reasons with Jane."

"Van Pelt and Rigsby are pulling out all the case files he's worked on. Chances are this is someone he pissed off or screwed over on a case. "

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, no kidding."

"Alright, you go help them. I'm gonna stay here, at least until Jane comes out of surgery."

He looked at her stained clothes and bloodshot eyes. "You sure? I could stay here while you get a shower, clean up."

She shook her head adamantly. "No, I want to be here when he comes out. You should be helping with the investigation, God knows it's too much work for two people."

"Alright. I'll call if we find anything."

"Thanks, Cho."

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A/N: This is all I have written, so you may not get more until the weekend - I'm still dealing with finals, so bear with me. In the mean time, reviews are- well, you know by now. Keep feeding the plot bunnies and I'll be back with more soon!

PS: I've stopped replying to reviews, at least for now - like I said, finals. I do appreciate each and every review, even if I don't have the time to reply to it. You guys have been great, and make me glad to have returned to the Fanfic community to try my hand again.


	4. News

**UPDATED ****A/N: For those of you who've already read the chapter and pretty near freaked out - read the new note at the bottom!**

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Lisbon hopped out of the driver's seat and started toward the house, throwing a remark at Jane as they joined at the short stone path. Even as she reached him, she had forgotten what the remark was about, except that it was funny. "You tease me, but it's true! Nothing makes for romance like passionate dislike!"

Lisbon rolled her eyes and knocked on the door of their victim's next of kin. She turned to give Jane a retort, but the door opened before she could come up with anything. She broke a glare at Jane and opened her mouth to address the man, but paused, puzzled. She couldn't remember the man's name. Horrified, she turned to Jane. He only grinned at her. She dug the recesses of her brain for a way to salvage the situation, but realized she couldn't even remember anything about their victim. Then she remembered: they didn't have a case.

"Jane, is this one of your tricks?" She turned to give him an accusatory glare but jumped when the man lunged at him, throwing him to the ground. His boots started kicking him in the ribs, making the consultant cover his head and whimper helplessly. Frantic, Lisbon reached for her gun, but it wasn't there. She began to panic. She yelled at the man, and tried to pull him away, but it was as if he was built out of stone. He kept on kicking, and kicking, and kicking, and Jane lay there bruised and bloody and defenseless, and she began to cry. The man was beating Jane to death and she was useless to stop him. She screamed, and sobbed, and fought, and still might as well have been miles away for all she could help Jane. She heard him call to her, begging her to protect him, except it wasn't his voice, and he was calling her agent. _Why was he calling her agent?_

"Agent. Agent Lisbon. Wake up, you're having a nightmare."

She opened her eyes to the harsh white light of the hospital waiting room and was instantly reminded that her nightmare was only a slightly different telling of something that had already happened. The man kneeling in front of her wore blue scrubs - a nurse. Lisbon pushed back a wave of despair as reality came crashing in on her again. The nurse gave her a grimace of a smile as though he knew what she was feeling, then nodded his head toward a woman in a white lab coat handling some paperwork at the nurses' desk. "The doctor's ready to talk to you."

The implication weighed on her. As anxious as she was to get answers to the questions flying around in her head, there was a part of her that didn't want to know. The last thing Lisbon wanted to hear after the ordeal she'd been through was how many of his ribs were broken or how much internal damage he had suffered. It was too late - the doctor was coming her way.

"Agent Lisbon? I'm Doctor Zillow. Please, stay seated."

Dr. Zillow took the seat Cho had hours before, and Lisbon sank back into her own. Already she didn't like this.

"Mr. Jane suffered an onslaught of severe contusions on his torso as well as his arms and his head. Several ribs were broken during the beating he received, and almost half his internal organs were severely traumatized. There was bleeding around his heart and around one of his lungs." The doctor paused. "We did everything we could to save him. I'm sorry, Agent Lisbon. He didn't make it."

Lisbon could only begin to process the information before she heard a shout that sent her running down the hall, shooting the doctor a questioning look.

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A/N: I know, I know, I left you with a cliffhanger. At least I didn't end it with the second-to-last sentence. The next chapter is already half-written, so it shouldn't be too long a wait - I might even have it up tonight, if the plot bunnies are well-fed enough ;).

On another note, I'm back! Sorry for the extra-long wait. I had to move one of my finals back, so only finished today. Thanks for all the good luck wishes; they all went well, and I am now done with college! (For awhile, at least).

**UPDATE: ****You can all calm down! When I kill a character off, I add a warning. That final sentence is meant to imply the full story has not been told yet ;). Sorry for any heart attacks I may have caused.**


	5. Confusion Grief

In another area of the hospital, an orderly wheeled a patient into a recovery room. Ethan Parker was one of two patients to come in the same morning with serious injuries from a beating. The orderly set him up in recovery and left, nodding at Mr. Parker's doctor as he passed him going in the room.

Dr. Kellenberger checked his patient's chart and adjusted some dials on the machine regulating his medications. As he worked around his patient's bed, the man began to come out of the anesthesia, a remarkable feat considering he had only just come from surgery.

"You should not be awake yet, Mr. Parker. I shall have to reprimand the anesthesiologist."

The man was groggy still. "Do you remember what happened? You were the victim of a beating. Your injuries are very serious, Ethan. You should thank me for keeping you alive long enough to be sorry."

The man was becoming more lucid, but had trouble understanding the doctor. "Sorry... sorry for what?"

"Well, for whatever you did to provoke such a violent beating, Ethan."

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

"Ethan? It's your name."

Fear entered his voice. "No it isn't. Where's Lisbon? Can I see Lisbon?"

"Who?"

"Teresa Lisbon. She brought me in. Where is she?"

"No one brought you in, Mr. Parker. A homeless man found you in an alley. Clearly, the aftereffects of the anasthesia have you confused. You'll feel better when it's fully worn off."

"No! I'm not confused! I want Lisbon. Where's Lisbon?" He pulled at the various lines, wires and nodes attached to his body and tried to sit up, pitifully falling back with a moan and calling for her. "Lis-BON!"

The doctor held him back while calling a nurse, chiding him for being so foolish. The nurse brought him a needle filled with an amber-colored liquid and helped him hold the patient down. "Now, Mr. Parker, this will help you go back to sleep. When you wake up, you'll realize you've imagined this Lisbon woman and feel very silly."

He fought harder, throwing the nurse off and struggling with the doctor. Another nurse joined the first, and their joint effort held him down long enough for the doctor to get the needle in his arm. The liquid entered his bloodstream and he started to black out, but still he twisted in his sheets and called out for help:

"Lis-BON!"

Across the hospital, the subject of his protests was listening to another doctor tell her that Patrick Jane was dead. When she heard the very man calling for her, her head, hung low, jerked up, and her tired eyes opened wide. She turned incredulous eyes back to Dr. Zillow, who was watching for her reaction.

"Oh?"

The doctor stared at her, her eyebrows furrowed in a confounded expression. "I- I'm sorry?"

Lisbon got out of her chair and started down the nearest hallway headed in the direction the shout had come from. "If he's dead, explain to me how he just called my name." The doctor didn't answer, but followed behind, equally perplexed and concerned. Lisbon half-ran through the halls of the hospital, inspecting each room. Secretly, she was grateful for the timing of his scream. It had saved her from a black abyss she never wanted to face the edges of again. She focused instead on finding and helping him.

The doctor tagged along out of worry for the agent. Though she had certainly heard something, she wasn't convinced it was her dead patient. He _was_ dead. She had seen it herself. The agent had heard something at a desperate moment and made it into something that could mean he might not be gone. She couldn't grieve until she acceted it.

They came to a blocked door, and she implored her. "Agent, you heard something else. Please, stop. He's gone." Lisbon ignored her, signaling instead that she wanted the doctor to grant her access to the restricted area. She complied, and continued as they went through it. "You're not going to find him back here."

The hall they were in led off to several recovery rooms. Lisbon checked each one of them; except for a few old men, a little girl, and a woman in her thirties, they were all empty. She went through another double door into another ward with more rooms.

Lisbon checked each one. He couldn't be dead. He was around the next corner. In the next room. Behind that curtain. He had to be.

But he wasn't in any of those places. When they came to another locked double door, and all that lay beyond was the mental ward, she had to stop. She had to give in to what the doctor was saying.

"The bleeding around his heart was too much. We tried to repair it, but we could only do so much. He went into cardiac arrest and died. I'm sorry. He's not back here. He's gone."

It hit her: he was really dead.

Dr. Zillow's eyes held compassion. This was news she had to give far too often. Had Lisbon been thinking very many clear thoughts, she might have registered the comparison between her job and the doctor's. "I'm sorry, agent. We did everything we could."

She was devoid of words. She was devoid of _thoughts_. Her mouth was open in a mortified "o" and her eyes were filled with the same black inkiness she'd worried over in Jane's eyes every time Red John got close. Her breath started to come in short doses and she could feel the beating of her heart in her stomach. She held much of her pain inside, but her eyes reflected the darkness of a soul lost without its tether. Her mind struggled to process the horror of what was happening. It was like she was caught in a scene of a tragic film she couldn't leave in the theatre when the credits rolled and real life returned.

But this wasn't the ending she'd ordered at the ticket window. She had expected broken bones and mental scars, not her friend dead. She hadn't prepared herself for the possibility that he might die on the operating table.

God, how pitiful was it? His whole life since Red John's all about killing the man if it costs his own life, and he gets beaten to death by some random nobody with a grudge.

He never got Red John. He never _would_ get Red John.

Lisbon would have to do it on her own.

And what about this case? _His_ killer? How could she work his case without him?

It was too much to take. She sank to the floor; her back scraped against the wall as she slid with it as her support. She brought her knees close to her body, burying her head and shielding it under her arms. If she was going to have a breakdown in the middle of a hospital ward, she was going to at least hide her face while she did it.

When the sobs came, they came in waves. They racked her body then left it. She wept then cried. Then wept some more.

The doctor didn't leave. She stood by while Lisbon cried. Her shift was long over, she had no one waiting on her. She would help the agent back to her feet when she was ready. It was the least she could do.

They both felt as if they'd failed to save a man's life that day.

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A/N: Sorry for the lateness. I fail. Again. I think I'm going to stop making promises.

The second half of this took far more time to write than I thought it would. I thought of splitting it up, but I wanted the transition between them in one chapter. And then I wanted it to be perfect. So, I took my time. Sorry!

I might not have another update for you until after the holidays. If you're following me, you may see a little Red Attic-unrelated but entirely Mentalist-related surprise come Christmas - maybe. THAT IS NOT A PROMISE! I've sworn off those ;).


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